


From beyond our reach

by likingthistoomuch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween at 221B - A Sherlolly Celebration, Sherlolly - Freeform, Spooky, as has JOhn, mary is bamf, of course, she's seen stuff, sherlock seems confused by things, they all rally around to save a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:28:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8396428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likingthistoomuch/pseuds/likingthistoomuch
Summary: When things go weird at the end of a case, all of Molly's friends rally to help her. Will Sherlock do whats needed?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seasalticecream32](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasalticecream32/gifts).



If he hadn’t seen it with it with his very own eyes, he would’ve laughed at anyone reciting the incident. But it had happened, in front him. And after a long time, John admits that he was actually scared.

They had been on a case, chasing the criminal and finally catching him in the derelict part of that old, abandoned building. John had stood guard over as medics took care of the man’s wounds and Sherlock spoke with Greg. He hadn’t a clear idea, but for some reason Molly Hooper had arrived along with Greg, and was standing a bit apart from all the action.

John had been about to approach her when he noticed her turn as if in response to some sound. Turning back to face him, a frown on her face, she had greeted him and was mid-sentence when she had again whipped her head. This time when she faced him, she had actually looked a bit nervous. Rubbing her hands, she made as if to come near him when she stopped mid stride. A sudden change had come over her body language; her face had blanked out in a weird way, she had jerked her head sideways again and had started walking slowly further into the belly of the old building. Not responding to him calling her name she had carried on walking, turning this way and that till they had reached what seemed like the boundary of the ruins.

John could see lights of cars passing by the boundary but funnily he couldn’t hear a thing. Molly had stopped in front of what seemed like a part of a wall, staring up at the broken masonry. John had quickened his pace till he was brought short.

Her hand extended, the air around her seemingly shimmering with …something, Molly stood tilting her head this way and that. If it weren’t for the fact that he could see her lips shut, John would’ve sworn she was in deep conversation. Her face then broke into a lovely smile. She nodded and seemed to move closer to the wall.

He didn’t know why but he suddenly had the feeling that he had to interrupt whatever was going on, that it was _essential_ he do it right then.

Inhaling deeply, he called out her name in the strictest tone that he had used on the boys while serving. “Molly,” his voice whipped her name.

She had snapped her head towards him. She looked ok but her eyes... There was something so cold, so angry, so disturbing about her eyes then that hadn’t he seen horrors perpetrated by his fellow man all his life, John Watson would’ve fled the scene. Gladly so.

But he stood his ground, ordering her to turn around and head back the way they had returned. And she waged a war against him, oh she did. There was a silent battle of wills being fought right there, but he stood his ground until the moment he could visibly see her getting her bearings back. With a confused look, Molly looked around her before taking the hand he proffered and heading back towards the police lights.

It was not before John was in bed and narrating the incident to Mary that he acknowledged the fact that the battle of gazes had driven him to the brink of exhaustion, that the most horrifying incidences of his life had raced in front of his eyes like a movie, that he had been shit scared _of_ and _for_ Molly.

“Oh dear Lord,” were Mary’s whispered words that were the last that he heard before slipping into deep sleep.

When he woke up, he was shocked to realise it was almost late afternoon.

“Hello love, how are you feeling?” The beloved voice of his wife greeted him.

“Mary, did I sleep the whole day? Did you drug me?”

Her smile was kind yet hard, “No John, you just needed the sleep to regain the strength spent last night. Now eat up, you’ll be hungry.”

Which was an understatement; John was ravenous. But he also had questions that he asked while eating.

“What happened? And you seem disturbed. Was it about what happened last night?”

Mary sighed, looking at her hands in her lap. John could see she was gathering her thoughts; her hesitation meant she might be thinking about her _past_.

“John, in my previous _work,_ I have been privy to scenes and experiences that sometimes I myself have a hard time understanding and believing. What you said, about Molly’s behaviour in the ruins…I have lost someone close to a similar incident. We found no trace of her; she just disappeared. There have been a few cases where dead bodies turned up, but basically it never ends well. We need help, and luckily I know just the person.”

“What are you even saying?”

“We are going out to Imperial College. We are to meet a Professor Shastri there.”

The only further information he could get from Mary was that similar incidences had occurred in urban as well as rural areas, and mostly in ruins. John knew it was important else Mary wouldn’t be this tense. Though exactly how important and serious she was he understood only on meeting Sherlock and _Mycroft_ outside the Professor’s offices.

Professor Shastri was an expert in Natural Sciences, a small but energetic bundle of a woman in her mid-40s. She got to the point without any delay.

“So, we are here ‘coz of what happened last evening. Interesting, very interesting and so close too,” she rapidly spoke, her eyes conveying her excitement. Once everyone was introduced, Mary got right to business.

“John was the one who pulled Molly back last night. He looked white as a sheet when he came home and slept throughout the day. He was ravenous when he woke up,” she rattled off without emotion.

“And what about the woman, Molly?” the professor asked.

“I haven’t been able to contact her but her boss said she appeared to be tired and lost in her own thoughts today, preferring the quiet of the morgue than the lab.”

“Hmm. Avoiding contamination of thoughts, preferring to go through whatever communication she had last time over and over again. Typical behaviour. From what you said of your husband Mary, he seems to be one tough man. I have known people to take days to recover.”

“Yes, lovely, John is a toughie and Molly seems to have an off day. And we seem to assume supernatural things are involved. Fabulous!! Halloween approaches, though last I checked this was still July. Have the celebrations started early this year?” John was surprised Sherlock had been silent for this long…he had expected the snark to appear by the second syllable.

But Prof Shastri seemed to take it in her stride. She just smiled and opened a book that was already on the table. She showed them certain drawings and sketches, “Sherlock, who do you think made these drawings?”

“School children, or even college students, for a Halloween party?”

She laughed and then continued, “That’s what they look like isn’t it? Monsters, ghouls, creatures from the netherworld. Sorry to disappoint you but these are real creatures, found in the ocean depths. And not even the deepest part of the sea. These are fauna that are found in the depths of the Mediterranean. You see Sherlock we do share our world with many, many other beings. Some we understand, most we don’t. And what we don’t understand, we call monsters. Of course that doesn’t discount the fact that many of these indeed are monstrous for their peers. The point I want to make is, just because we haven’t seen them doesn’t mean they don’t exist. They do exist, and have since ages.”

The professor turned to Mycroft then, eyebrows raised in expectation.

“Well Professor, as you asked, the building’s history is telling. Before being abandoned or rather going to ruins due to the owners going broke, it was last inhabited by Lord Melvin, a man desperate to leave an heir behind as he was the last of his kin. But it was not to be; his engagement ended due to his fiancée’s death and then he failed to find a bride due to his dwindling fortune. After his death, his house was used by addicts and homeless people before the council cleaned it up.”

“Thank your Mr Holmes. It doesn’t matter what the man before was, the being now just focuses on its wants. And they target their prey very astutely. Is your friend single, with very little immediate family?”

“Yes,” Sherlock responded before anyone. “But she isn’t alone, if that’s what you are implying.”

“It doesn’t matter what I imply Sherlock. It’s what the being reads off her that matters. ”

“So what do you suggest?” There was a mild decrease in his hostility, as if he was suddenly interested in what she was saying.

“I get that you find this difficult to believe. I have seen more than a few such cases, as am sure your brother would corroborate. But you all can help by doing certain things. They are simple actions; make your friend feel wanted, involve her more in whatever you all plan, make her feel that she is an important and irreplaceable member of your circle. Continue to do this while I visit the place with my team and see if we can have the being _transferred_ to its proper realm.”

And so it began; the effort by all of them to involve Molly more in their lives. But it was proving to be more difficult than they predicted, especially with Sherlock not still convinced she was in any danger.

As was also confirmed by Mike, since the evening of the incident (as they now called it), Molly seemed a bit preoccupied. She was committing silly mistakes and would retire to the morgue every free minute she had. It was proving increasingly difficult to get her to work in the lab or even go home.

Also she wasn’t the most amenable to their increased interest to involve her in their social life. She was reluctant at best and adamant at worst to spend time with them; Mary had used Eve as the final carrot to get her to agree to join them for dinner.

But the most resistance Molly gave, when she almost turned angry was when Sherlock insisted she join him for experiments at Baker Street. She had resisted and protested and outright argued against him taking her there. But she had eventually given in.

Mary was at Baker Street that day, it was the day Eve spent some time with Mrs Hudson. Sherlock had stepped out for a moment while she was chatting with Molly over tea. The change that came over Molly was visible; her eyes had hardened mid-sentence, she threw the cake in her hand on the floor and outright snarled at Mary. It was luck that Mary had Sherlock on speed dial and had already dialled him before Molly glanced at the phone. It had then grown hot till it had actually smoked and burst into fire. Mary had yelped and jumped back, at which Molly had grabbed her bag and had run down the stairs and out of Baker Street.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cant even apologise enough for the delay...its been a year!! Well, at least I made it in time for this halloween!!  
> I hope you like it. Please read and leave a review. I promise I wont wait a year to update any fic of mine.

Mary was in two minds whether to wait for Sherlock or to run after Molly. Since that horse (or mare) had already bolted, she waited till the detective arrived. Until then, Mary rushed below and using Mrs Hudson’s phone, informed Dr Shastri of what had happened.

“And this happened when you were at Sherlock’s place? Was he present?” the professor asked.

“He just stepped out for a minute and she was gone by the time he came back.”

“Uh oh. From what you have told me, she was most reluctant to spend time with him. This usually happens with the person most influential in the victim’s life. Mary, all I can say is we have less time than we thought!!”

 

XX

 

They were able to track Molly using the CCTV network, watching her as she walked ,her feet carrying her faster than normally possible. People parted ways to let her pass, a small glimpse at her now dreadful expression enough to make them get out of her way. She turned this way and that, making following her extremely difficult. Mycroft was watching the scene from his car when he got a phone call from one of his technicians.

“We traced the path she’s taking. The letters M-I-H-E-L-P-N-E were formed.”

Mine – interspersed with Help.

He conveyed the information to the team on the road, which worried as well as gave Dr Shastri hope.

“She is fighting but the being is angry enough to claim her. This level of possessiveness has been seen only in the last stages of possession, if we may call it that. We have to reach her soon.”

What the good doctor omitted to say what that the general conclusion of that stage was rarely positive.

As they neared her they all planned to, if needed, wrestle her down in one place when they reached her, but suddenly, before anyone could even understand what happened she stopped. Right in the middle of the footpath by a secluded portion of Regents Park. She could’ve been a carved statue for all the movements she did.

Cars screeched and doors were slammed as the team approached her. Mary and Sherlock were the first to reach, keeping a safe distance as Molly seemed to stare straight ahead into nothingness.

It was their proximity that made them notice the change, see her eyes go completely black for a moment. The small smile on her face sent shivers down Mary’s spine, and she noticed that Sherlock wasn’t unaffected either.

“Hello Sherlock,” Molly softly said.

If the detective had been uncomfortable earlier, he positively blanched at the words. There was a beautiful smile on her face now, she looked absolutely peaceful but her voice was ugly, to say the least.

“Hehe, don’t like sharing this moppet do you? Well, you played with her long enough…now it’s my turn.”

“I never _played_ with her,” he rasped out. “She isn’t a play thing.”

“Is that so? Let me try… she won’t even feel a thing.”

And then Molly screamed…the most blood curdling sound he had heard in his life. She stopped suddenly as she had started.

“Oops, I lied.” And then she smiled, ugliness now dripping down those lips.

Despair. That was one word that described how Sherlock felt. He didn’t know then, but the emotion was shared by everyone who was within a certain radius of the now stationary Molly.

“Focus!” Dr Shastri’s words sounded in his head. “Connect. Communicate.”

“She is - you are my friend Molly. I need you.”

“Molly doesn’t believe you. You know what she thinks? She thinks she is the back-up plan for everyone, the plan B, the stand in. She is always at the back of the line…especially for you, Sherlock.”

Sherlock frowned, “That’s ridiculous, you don’t know what you are talking about.”

Molly face twisted as she screamed in pain yet again, stopping just as Sherlock and the others took a step near.

“You tell a lie, I punish her.”

From somewhere within, Sherlock found the strength to remain calm and answer. “I am telling the truth. Only lies have details and histrionics.”

Molly screamed yet again, this time bending over. She whipped up straight just as Sherlock approached nearer, looking paler than earlier. But this time what he saw gave him hope. Just before her eyes turned black, just after she stopped screaming he had seen brown eyes stare back. Begging for help, beseeching him while trying to hide a cherished look.

She had peeped out from under the being’s control.

“I tell the truth and yet you punish her. This isn’t a fair trade,” Sherlock spoke calmly, his outward appearance belying the turmoil within.

He received a terrifying smile in return.

“I do what I want. Though I admit, this one is fighting back. I like feisty broodmares.”

“She isn’t a _broodmare_.”

“She will be…soon. Just like the others were. She is trying to fight oh! but thoughts are such a beautiful weapon. All the despair they can cause, make one feel so lonely, so unwanted, so small…it’s almost too easy.”

This time when Molly threw her head back, instead of screaming she laughed out loud. But he heard then… that little hidden sob underneath that demonic voice. He knew then that she could hear him, that she was not giving up. And there was no way that Sherlock could give up too. There was a sparse audience around now, the general public having been cleared and only members of Dr Shastri’s team and his friends around him.

There was nothing to left to lose…not when he was about to lose it all.

“You know you are wanted. You know how important you are.” Placing his hand on his heart, Sherlock quietly said. “You are here, have always been here. And you’ve known it to be true for quite some time.”

“Stay away Sherlock. This one is mine,” she snarled.

“Listen to me Molly, you know what I said is true. You’ve always known it,” he pleaded.

It happened so suddenly, there was hardly any time to react. Molly flew at Sherlock, her hands clawing at his neck, her mouth twisted in an ugly snarl, madness peeping through her eyes.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare try and steal this broodmare from me. I see you, you fucking moron, and I won’t let you take her away from me.”

It took all of his strength to pry away her fingers from his throat, air reaching his gulping lungs after a struggle as he held on to her wrists.

The moment he did that, he heard Molly’s voice plead, “You are hurting me Sherlock.”

But he didn’t budge, which angered the being even more. This time though, Sherlock was prepared and he was able to twist them around, straddling the now thrashing woman while trying to hold her hands by her head.

In that same instance, Dr Shastri was setting up her equipment of electromagnetic transponders around the wrestling couple. As soon as the switch was pulled, they lost all lights around, the bodies on the footpath being bathed in a blue light instead. Sherlock felt an electric pulse go through him where he held Molly’s hands. Try as he might, he could not hold on and had to let go.

Molly convulsed, was almost lifted off the floor before she collapsed as the transponders seemed to vibrate with a certain energy before they all sparked and it all went dark. There was no sound, no movement before the lights came back on to illuminate the extraordinary scene right outside of one of London’s most popular parks.

Molly was convulsing on the road, her mouth frothing slightly but her eyes…they were her own eyes and not the black emptiness that had been staring back at them all the while. Sherlock rushed to her, turning her on her side to prevent her choking on her own vomit. She was then put on a stretcher and rushed to Barts in the waiting ambulance, Mary accompanying her and Sherlock.

“You should get those scratch marks checked,” she gently told the consulting detective who could not take his eyes away from the now unconscious woman on the stretcher.

“I have many things to do Mary, these scratches are the least of my concern,” he replied.

“I agree its about time. But a tetanus infection is a pain you don’t want Sherlock, take it from someone who has been through it.”

It was then that he finally looked at and met Mary’s eyes.

“How did this happen, Mary? Have I been so selfish? Have I relegated her so much that she was such an easy prey to…whatever that was?”

Mary smiled a sadly, “We’re all culprits here Sherlock. We all took her for granted.”

“I just hope there is a chance to make amends,” he said quietly.

There were no more words exchanged as the vehicle rushed to the nearest hospital.

 

XX

 

It was three days before Molly gained enough strength to be able to receive visitors. She had injuries to the back of her head where she had convulsed on the road, along with several scars on her back. She had a sprained back and a twisted ankle, along with a severe sore throat and a constant headache. But overall, she seemed fine.

She wasn’t surprised in the least when her first visitor turned up looking almost as battered as she felt. Gesturing him nearer, she held his hand as he sat on a chair by her bed.

“I’m sorry, Sherlock,” she whispered.

He just shook his head, too many emotions jostling at the familiar look on her face. He knew now that all the while he was half-heartedly trying to make her feel better, while they all were trying to make her feel included, she was fighting an internal battle with a thing that was way too powerful than anything he could explain. There was no rational explanation to what she had been through, and he wouldn’t have believed it were it not for the fact that he had verbally and mentally duelled with it himself.

And now, looking at her battered and bruised body lying on the bed, with _her_ apologising instead of him…instead of all of them, he felt small. Underserving.

And knew then how easy it might’ve been for the entity to convince her of the lie of her own worthlessness. And how strong she must’ve been, how much faith she must have had in them all…in _him_ , to be able to fight for that long.

Holding her hand in both of his, he lowered his head until it rested against her fingers.

“It wasn’t you Molly, never you. You did the best you could and we failed you – I failed you.”

“Sherlock-” she breathed.

“I was scared… I was scared at what I felt for you. I thought it would make me weak. But after seeing _that_ …knowing for real what losing you might be like…”

“Its not your fault Sherlock.”

“I meant it. When I said that this is where you’ve always been,” he placed her hand on his heart that was now beating rather fast. “This is what you always do.”

She smiled, a tired yet happy smile. And he knew then that though there would be more battles for them ahead, it was a road he was more than happy to take together.

* * *

“Yes, the female victim felt she was lonely, socially secluded or awkward if you may,” Dr Shastri spoke on the phone.

The past few days had been spent investigating the phenomenon that she had experienced for the first time in such a crowded environment. She felt a bit uncomfortable at how easily the being had been able to attach itself to Dr Hooper even when she was surrounded by people. The victims they had encountered earlier had been in relatively secluded places, where there had been less distractions.

She was wondering about the same, discussing with her colleague the reports generated from the electromagnetic transponders when she felt a prickle down her spine. She immediately turned to the photograph of her family that was always propped by her work table, but by the time she had turned to face it, her normal warm brown eyes had been replaced by black emptiness.


End file.
